A Victim's Diary
by Doomsdaydev
Summary: During the atrocity that was World War Two, everyone, no matter how common, had a story. This is the diary of a simple Jewish man in Warsaw. *I couldn't find a better category so I put it in here. Don't blame me.*
1. November 16th, 1940

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**_Hi there, folks. I recently dug up my 9th grade school project, a fictional diary about a Holocaust victim. I figured, hey, why not just throw this up on the web. Got nothin' better to do.  
So here it is. Unedited, of course.

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_**

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November 16th, 1940.

It has been about a year since the Nazi filth invaded our country. A year of horror.  
All those stories and rumours that we heard about their treatment of Jews- all true.  
They shut down our stores, make us wear badges of the Star of David- As if it was a sign of shame!- And they even make it a crime to be associated with us! Those scum, we thought, had already taken our rights, what is left to take, right? Well, they've answered that question haven't they? They make us live in isolation!

They forced us into a section of our city, then wall it off and declare it a crime to leave!

They make us work tirelessly, give us feeble food and drink, and put armed guards on the walls!

They call this a Ghetto. It is not a Ghetto.

It is a prison.


	2. November 17th, 1940

November 17th, 1940.

It occurs to me that writing in a journal might be a stupid idea. If it is found, I could be executed. But... I don't care. I don't care because we need something to show the world what happened. I need something to show the world, to show them the horrors of the Nazis. Either way, some of the pages may make for good kindling...

But I digress. My name, in case you were wondering, is Jacob Tenenbaum. Or, if I follow what the Germans dictate, Jacob "Israel" Tenenbaum. It is sometimes difficult to write, after working like a slave, Some days, however, I can hold a pen well enough to write.

The work here in the Warsaw Ghetto is unbearable. We are forced to work in the fields and roads, advancing the progress of the Nazis. If we lag behind, we are beaten brutally. Some do not get up afterwards. The food "paid" for our services is almost inedible. The scraps of food that one would normally throw away is what we receive. Sometimes, even worse than that.

It is becoming hard to write now. I will write more later.


	3. November 28th, 1940

November 28th, 1940

The Nazis know no humanity. Today, I saw them gun down a group of us. They forced them against the wall, call them names, taunted them, and then shot them. And then what did they do? They left the bodies there. right in the street!

Sadly, this is not the only way that these corpses appear. Many of us die from disease, like my neighbors, the Schwartz's, which were some of the unfortunate to die during the wave of typhoid fever in the past months. It was a miracle that I did not succumb to it as well, but... I will miss them. Truly. I just wish that I could have helped, but no- those damn Nazis won't even give us enough medicine for daily use! The only way most of us have survived so far is by smuggling, and even then!

It does no good to worry about what has happened in the past. I shouldn't think about them... but I miss them so...


	4. December 10th, 1940

December 10th, 1940

My stomach grumbles as I write this. It protests not being properly full. It is not just me, either. I see many emaciated Jews as I go about the Ghetto. Looking at them, I think the term "skeleton" applies best, especially when they are actual skeletons… A bit of dark humour never hurt anyone, right?

Regardless, the food is awful, but we make do with what we can. Usually, by smuggling, we can ensure a good food supply. We have, or at least I've heard of, secret soup kitchens set up as part of an underground network. At least, I think they exist… Maybe I should look into this…


	5. December 28th, 1940

December 28th, 1940

I did some poking around, and I've found that there is an underground! They run the kitchens, like I thought, but they run so much more, too! There's a library, an orphanage, even a school! I… I know how to help, now. This is my chance to make up for my past actions. I know that I won't be able to do much (I am still forced to work on the roads.) but anything I can do, I will.

I must.


	6. January 17th, 1941

January 17th, 1941

I am content, as hard as it is to believe. I am helping to maintain the library (if a few stacks of dirty and slightly mangled books count as a library) and guard it from the Nazis. That, and from the occasional wastrel that tries to burn one of them as fuel for a fire! Those savages! To be honest, it is a quiet job. The only real danger would be if I accidently fell asleep on the job!


	7. February 2nd, 1941

February 2nd, 1941

Another of my friends was beaten today. He... He and I worked together on the labour team. He was caught... resting, for a second, but the Nazis took him in front of everyone, declared him a weakling and a waste of oxygen. And then, as the soldier shouted "This is what we do to lazy Jews like you!" He hit him with a baton, and he hit him again, and again... When it was over, my friend laid in a pool of his own blood. The soldier looked at us, and shouted "Get back to work, you lazy swine!" He did not send anyone to check on my friend. We were not allowed near him. No one said anything, and we left without him.


	8. February 3rd, 1941

February 3rd, 1941

My friend did not return today. I fear the worst.


	9. February 23rd, 1941

February 23rd, 1941

He's not coming back. He's gone. Forever. I... I... I need to do more. I won't just stand by as a... Librarian, and just let things like this happen to others! I will do more!


	10. March 9th, 1941

March 9th, 1941

I am part of the smuggling team now. My old job was given to someone else. Now, I am responsible for the health and wellbeing of many. I start tomorrow. I will not lie- I am nervous. I hope- no, I must!- succeed.

I must


	11. March 10th, 1941

March 10th, 1941

I had my first "run" today. At around curfew, the magical time where it is too dark to see, but before the searchlights are turned on, this is when I operate. I was to meet with a family on the other side of the wall that had agreed to help us. We could not, however, meet face to face, so we had to meet at a "brick" location. These are the few spots where the bricks are, or have been made, loose. There, I quickly grabbed the cans of food that the family was sending over, stuffed them into my bag, and hurriedly put the bricks back into place. I was just walking away when I saw the spotlights turn on. I knew that if that light touched me, I would disappear into the night forever. (Ironic, no?) I quickly ran to the shadows, hiding myself. From there, I used the network of tunnels to get me to the kitchen. I was thanked, and given a small portion of what I had brought in. I recount my experience to the others. They congratulate me about it. I will do this again next week.


	12. March 25th, 1941

March 25th, 1941

We lost one of our smugglers yesterday. He was one of the newer "recruits". He had gotten careless, and was exposed by the Nazis. We didn't learn about it until this morning.

As everyone got up and about this morning, there was a commotion of some sorts at the main at the main plaza. I decided to check it out before I went to the work crew. When it came into view, I was horrified- It was him, the smuggler we had lost the night before! He was on a makeshift gallows, awaiting his death by the cruel trapdoor. He saw me for a second, but a bag was quickly put over his head by one of the soldiers guarding him. Then, one of the Nazis, who was a person of high rank, apparently (I do not know what each uniform means) he stepped forward from the gallows deck, and spoke:

"Jews of Warsaw!" he began, his voice thundering across and silencing all idle chatter, "This man is a criminal, and deserves to die. The crime? He was found in possession of several items of contraband. As per the laws regarding Jews, this is a crime punishable by death." he now turned to his troops. "On my mark." A drummer boy began his frantic tempo. "3... 2... 1... MARK!"

And with that, the soldier pulled the lever, and my friend... dropped.

Each and every one of us was horrified, but... this was not the first execution we had witnessed. Every Jew here knows someone that died. Some more than others.

Soon, the crowd began to dissipate. I lingered for a second, but as I turned to leave, I was noticed.

"You there! Jew!" said one of the soldiers. Not knowing what to expect, I walked over to him. I knew, however, that I was not expected to speak.

"Jew, take the corpse away. Use that cart." he commanded, pointing towards a common pushcart by the gallows. I nodded in agreement. I tentatively took the... body... down, and put it on the cart. I knew where to take him. It was a small plot of land, no more than 20 meters by 20 meters, that we in the underground use to bury our dead. That is, if we can find the bodies...

I reached the plot, and was greeted by the caretaker there. The plot was separated from all other stations, so we could use it without fear of exposing others. My friend was put under quickly, and quietly. It was just me and the caretaker, who was a rabbi secretly. I knew that his family was dead, so this seemed like the right job for him.

As we positioned the body into the thin, flimsy wooden coffin, I saw a scrap of paper stuck in his pocket. I reached in and grabbed it the scrap, and I saw that it contained writing from my friend. It read as follows:

"If you are reading this, I am dead. I can't write much. Too weak. Tell others not to use third spot west of N.E. corner of wall. Trap. Nazis prepared there. Beware."

I was shocked. The Nazis knew! I told the others what I had found. That night, we mourned for him. Even in death, he still managed to help us. I hope that I can say the same for me.


	13. April 11th, 1941

April 11th, 1941

The snow is starting to melt, it seems. A small relief, in this unyielding sea of despair. The runs are becoming routine now. I've learned a lot from the others. I've been pondering about things, recently. Things like this, the ghetto, the killings, everything. Is this my final destiny? To work, and work, and hide, and fear, and scavenge, and work again until I die? It that it?

I wish I knew.


End file.
